The Betrothed Sister

The Betrothed Sister Read Free Page B

Book: The Betrothed Sister Read Free
Author: Carol McGrath
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enemy’s sail billowed out it seemed as if it had scooped up a fat fireball.
    The pirates tried desperately to throw buckets of seawater up at the gathering flames. A continuous stream of what now looked like wide, burning, linen ribbons floated briefly in the air, turned into skinny black rags and descended to be tossed about and swallowed by the foaming waves.
    The Sea-Dragon lurched, as with dangerous speed the oarsmen began to row forwards.
    There was a roar of complaint from the privy. The wind-filled curtain flapped open allowing a full view of Grandmother Gytha’s red woven leggings, tied at her knees, and her bunched-up brown undergown. Gytha pulled herself from the bucket and banged its lid back down with a crash. Straightening her clothing, Countess Gytha emerged grumbling, ‘How dare they attack us? Mark this, Edmund, after this wave-dancing and enemy-dodging is over, a seaman must be dispatched up here to empty that bucket. It reeks of pig’s innards.’
    Edmund yelled back, ‘Grandmother, get back, we are not safe yet.’
    Thea clambered down from her perch by the privy and handed Gytha the lavender ball to hold to her nose. She dragged her grandmother back from danger to shelter again behind the chests where the terrified children were shrieking. Their mothers sobbed as they clung to their children and to each other.
    If St Theodosia abandoned them, if the pirates were able to put out the flames and retaliate and their ships were captured, Thea swore an oath. She would kill herself rather than become a hostage or a slave.
    Drawing her seax from its sheath, she grasped it tightly under her mantle. Her grandmother pulled her into her bony arms and whispered, ‘Thea, there will be no need. We shall outrun them. Those bastards are fighting a fire. Anyway, they will not dare attack further into Normandy’s waters, not if a Norman fleet is out.’
    â€˜But will the Normans attack us too?’
    â€˜They dare not. They promised us safe passage. The Norman bastards will protect their shores, believe me. Besides, Godwin and the Wave-Prancer will be more than the enemy’s match. He will divert the pirate scum from our ship to give us a chance to get up into the Narrow Sea between Normandy and England. Once we are past Brittany’s coast, the devils will retreat.’
    â€˜That puts Godwin in danger.’
    â€˜He is used to it. Godwin has better marksmen and faster oarsmen than they have on that ship with its ruined sail. By tomorrow morning we shall be breaking our fast by the hearth in a Flanders inn.’
    The countess’s words proved true. The pirate ship was retreating. The Wave-Prancer would hold the mid-channel until the threat vanished into the southern horizon.
    Edmund ordered bread and buttermilk for the women. He followed the servant back to the stern and crouched beside Aunt Hilda. Pale with shock, their aunt was gabbling prayers as fast as a feast-day goose running around a yard. ‘It is over,’ he said to her quietly. ‘You can put your cross away, Aunt Hilda. God has listened to your prayers. Please eat and drink. We have another day’s sea journey ahead.’
    Aunt Hilda shook her head but her mouth shaped a wisp of a smile. ‘No food, just water.’ She studied Edmund for a moment. ‘I have come to a decision. Once we are safe in Flanders I shall seek a life of contemplation.’
    Countess Gytha reached her jewelled hand out of the covers and accepted the bread the servant offered. She turned to Hilda and remarked with an edge to her tone. ‘So God steals another of our Godwin women to be his handmaiden. Well, so be it, if that is your choice, Hilda, my daughter.’

3
    St Omer, 1068
    The September sun was beginning to streak the sky with gold and pink as late in the afternoon the two ships slid into the shelter of a Flanders bay.
    The ships sailed around a shallow grey headland where tufts of sea grass waved in

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